


Enamored

by treasure (hookedswan)



Series: Anastasia Viktorovna Katsuki-Nikiforova [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, First Love, French Kissing, Gen, Grand Prix Final Banquet, Kissing, M/M, Original Character(s), Underage Kissing, a 16 year old makes out with a 15 year old??, idk if this couts as underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 00:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14726111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hookedswan/pseuds/treasure
Summary: Anastasia, Viktor and Yuuri's teen daughter, becomes enamored with Jean-Jacques Leroy Jr., JJ's son.(Part of an ongoing series. Can be read as a stand alone.)





	Enamored

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read anything prior to this, all you have to know is that Anastasia is 15 in this, its December, and she moved to America with her parents about six months prior. And that the few names mentioned at one point are her friends from school.

The first time she met him, she was spending Christmas in Japan for her senior debut in the Grand Prix Final. She had seen him before, but never approached him. Jean-Jacques Leroy Jr. was a stunning sixteen year old, about nine months older than Anastasia herself. He and his younger sister, Olivia, skated competitively, training in Vancouver (she had looked it up.) Two years prior, when she saw him for the first time, she was thirteen and he was fourteen. They’d been at the Junior Grand Prix, their first one. Looking back, Anastasia was glad she hadn’t officially met him then. She’d had bright pink braces and had a flat chest. As she got older, she got them taken off and her figure got curvier. Not to mention that she started toning her hair to get rid of the gross brassy undertones.

Jean-Jacques didn’t compete in their last Junior season due to an injury (she had looked that up, too.) They hadn’t really _seen_ each other in about two years and she was _excited_. She followed him on Instagram, basically living for the photos of himself he’d post in the summer. He’d developed a large following of almost a million people. He was big in Canada, she supposed.   


All of her friends knew generally who he was, either seeing pictures of him circulating online or due to other celebrities posting photos with him. She didn’t think they knew  _why_ he was famous, other than  for  being extremely attractive.   


He didn’t follow her, she didn’t think. Anastasia ha d two Instagram accounts, a public one where she posted about competitions and gifts she got from fans (@anastsasiakatsuki) and a private one she had for her friends follow (@ nastyakatsu). She had a few hundred thousand followers on her public account and only about a thousand on her private. She had secretly hoped for a while now that she’d open Instagram and see a follow request from @jjleroy2, but that hadn’t happened yet. H e didn’t follow her official account, which she found odd, as he followed mostly figure skaters. She’d won gold in almost every competition she’d been in so far, and news outlets said she was “the best skater in the world”.   


So, that’s why on the night of the banquet, she spent extra long getting ready. Her parents had left a little while ago, telling her that they’d gone to do press conferences. Anastasia had truly gotten stunning over the past few years. She made sure to use special oils on her eyebrows and eyelashes to make them long and thick. Her facial features made her a target of many boys’ affections at school. Her lips were plush and full, forming a natural pout.  She had high cheekbones that needed little to no makeup whatsoever. Her eyes were a golden brown and were definitely a feature she’d inherited from her mother. They were wide and angular, making her look like a doll.   


Anastasia swept  a bunch of different flesh-toned eye shadows on, creating a wonderful blend of colors that complimented her eyes and olive skin tone.  She swept a thick, creamy, glittery cold shadow over lid only, finishing her look with winged eyeliner. She swiped on a few coats of mascara and put on one of those cool Kailijumei lipsticks. She sighed, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked perfect.  


Anastasia grinned and ran into her hotel bedroom, grabbing her new Balmain dress. It was black and fell t o the floor, it was slim fitting and one side had a slit up to the thigh. It was sleeveless and had a deep V that went to the bottom of her chest. The space in the middle was filled with  g old chains that held up five medallions with engravings on them, each medallion stacked up on one another and around the size of a quarter. Her shoes were  glossy  black  Louboutins with a high heel.   


Prior to doing her makeup, Anastasia had curled her hair, pinning the longer front pieces back in twists, leaving the shorted pieces out and curled away from her face. She sighed again, putting her rings and bracelet on, nervous for the banquet.

Anastasia grabbed her phone and took the elevator down to the hotel’s banquet hall, where it was being held. They’d had all the figure skaters stay in the same hotel, as it was one of the biggest and had an enormous banquet hall.

 

When she entered she was awestruck by the amount of people. She always was. Year after year, she’d always be shocked by the hundreds of coaches, sponsors, and skaters were there. Anastasia quickly found her parents talking  with a sponsor, drinking champagne.   


“Papa! Tou-San!” She hurried over to them. “Hey, guys!” She smiled.

“Nastyen’ka! You look beautiful!” Viktor smiled. And hugged his daughter.

“You do, love.” Yuuri smiled and hugged her as well. The conversation shifted to Japanese as Anastasia addressed her sponsor. “Hello, Mr. Hasegawa, did you watch me skate?”

“Yes, I did, and you definitely deserved your gold medal. You broke your own record this week. You scored an 83.92 on your short program, about .73 points higher.” He smiled.

“I did, didn’t I?” Anastasia laughed. Mr. Hasegawa chatted more about how he thinks she can beat it again next season. When he finished, Anastasia spoke, “it was great catching up, sir, but I am off to go catch up with my skater friends. Thank you!”

Anastasia walked off and finally found him. He was sitting alone at a table, drinking half a flute of strawberry champagne.

_How am I supposed to approach him? Last time he saw me I barely spoke English! What do I say? Oh my God, oh my God, he’s walking over here_ .  


“Nikiforov, right?” Jean-Jacques smiled charmingly, swirling his champagne around in his glass.

“Um… Uh, no—yeah, um, it’s Nikiforov _a_ ,” she laughed. _His eyes are so blue!  
_

“Why don’t you come sit at my table with me, those shoes seem uncomfortable.” He lead her over to the round table with a white table cloth on it. It had a centerpiece of flowers.

“What’s up?” Anastasia smiled and leaned towards him.   


“Nothing much, what’s up with our gold medalist?” He smiled. _Oh my god his teeth are so white it should be illegal!  
_

“Nothing much either. I moved to America a few months back, so I guess that’s new.” Anastasia twirled her hair.   


“Really? What part?” He tilted his head. _Wait! Are we flirting?! Oh_ God _I hope so.  
_

“Miami. We live in this waterfront house.”   


“Ooh, I love Miami. Maybe I’ll have to visit more, huh?” Jean-Jacques leaned in slightly more. She wanted to kiss him.   


“Yeah, you definitely will. I’ll bring you to the beach and we can go swimming.” Their voices were lower now, they’d gotten quieter for some reason, maybe it was because of how close they were. Jean-Jacques scooted his chair closer to Anastasia’s, now their thighs were intermingled.

“I’d love that. I bet you look hot in a bikini.” He teased with a smirk om his face. Anastasia blushed, “oh, you have no idea.”

“You got hot, though.” Jean-Jacques pushed a lock of hair behind Anastasia’s ear.

“I did?” She blushed even harder, smirking slightly.  


“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

“Tell me more. You like what you see, Jean-Jacques?” Their tones were teasing, light, but they both knew they weren’t teasing anymore.

“Yeah, I do. You have a hot body, Miss Nikiforova.”

Anastasia ducked her head and blushed at that.

“Teach me some Russian, babe.” He whispered, leaning even closer to Anastasia, touching her cheek softly, caressing the soft skin.

“ _Potseluy myenya, krasotka._ ”  


Jean-Jacques repeated what she said. “Now what does that mean?”

“It means, kiss me.” Anastasia stared at his lips.   


“Gladly.”

Jean-Jacques leaned forward and pressed his lips to Anastasia’s.  _This is happening! Oh my God! I can’t wait to tell Magda and Israel and Esmeralda and Jacinta!  
_

Jean-Jacques swiped his tongue at her bottom lip and she let him in. They made out for a good thirty seconds before Anastasia needed air. They pulled apart, she breathed, he breathed, and they went right back at it again.

She knew her parents didn’t like him much, expressing their distaste while he skated. They thought he was sleazy and a womanizer. But Anastasia liked him. A lot. Them not liking him made her want him even more.

“When are you flying back home?” She pulled back, breathing hard.

“Tomorrow morning.” He brushed his thumb against her lower lip. She sighed, disappointed. She wanted to bring him around the city and show him her favorite foods.

“Maybe I can convince my parents to go to some resort and we can see each other soon. I’ll drive you around, I think my license is valid there.” Jean-Jacques smiled.

“You can drive? Like without an adult?” Anastasia raised her brows.

“Yeah. You get your permit and fourteen and your license at sixteen.” He laughed lightly.

Anastasia laughed lightly too.

 

Later that night, she arrived back at her hotel room with swollen lips and a new contact in her phone.

She hit Magda, her friend’s, contact.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You’ll never guessed what just happened!” Anastasia fell back onto her bed, giggling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment? Comment requests if you have them. But feedback is also very good.


End file.
